Mail Call

So far, Heddy has discovered a German man hiding in the abandoned house just down the beach. A new friend, Lester, has moved to the island for the summer, and he has become her best friend. Her older brother, Willis has returned from the war and suffers from nightmares. He and Lester have bonded, leaving Heddy feeling a little left out from time to time. After Lester shows up during the hurricane with news that his father was killed in the Pacific, he stays with Heddy's family through the duration of the storm. Heddy sneaks down the beach to check on Artie, the German.

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We go around for several days helping the folks who need it. Momma cuts up whatever vegetables that she saves from the garden and shares them with the neighbors. Everybody shares what they have. Mr. Covey, who used to be the captain of the Ferry, lets us use his outdoor shower and sends us home with a bucket of fresh water after we help him cut up a huge oak that got uprooted. My daddy and Willis, saw on the tree for four straight hours. Little by little they reduce it to a large pile of limbs and chunks of wood.

"Well, if you get low on firewood, don't hesitate to come grab some," Mr. Covey says, his eyes wandering over to the mass of wood at the edge of the clearing. "How about I make you a nice hope chest, MIss Heddy," he says, winking at my daddy and Willis. "You ain't far from being a young lady now, are you?"

"She's just eleven, Mr. Covey, won't be twelve until October. I think you needn't hurry with that hope chest."

Willis reaches over and tousles my hair. "Maybe a toy box would be more fitting."

The three of them have a good laugh while I just stand there. I wander over to the wood pile. The trunk was almost as big as our dining room table. I look at the rings, some faded and narrow and some are dark, like they have been stained. "How old do you think this tree was?"

Mr. Covey turns and frowns while scratching his head. "Well, it was pretty big when my grandfather used to live here. If I had to guess, I'd say about three hundred years old. If you're bored one day, you're welcome to come back and count the rings."

The thought of this old tree that had been here longer than America had been a country, was now just a jumbled heap of pieces makes me sad.

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Daddy carries the bucket of water home and tells Willis and I to go fetch the mail. It's been four days since the storm so the mail has come through on the ferry. Lester hasn't been back to our house since. Momma and Daddy said it was cause he probably had to help his Uncle Wayne fix whatever was damaged in the hurricane. But, I think he got in trouble. I'll bet a nickel that he ain't allowed to come back to my house.

There are still branches and leaves littering the path that leads to the post office. Willis walks ahead so he can shoo any snakes or snapping turtles off the path. "I'm too tired to carry you if you get bit by a snake, and you don't pay attention to where you're going." He is getting kind of grumpy and I slow my pace down to give us a little distance.

When we get to the post office, I see a slab of wood nailed over the front window. I walk far enough to the side and look over at the Collettes' house. A black tarp is draped over a section of the roof, held in place by some bricks along the edges.

"Come on, Heddy. We don't have all day. Let's get the mail and get home, I'm tired."

"Sit here and rest. I'll run in and get the mail."

Willis doesn't argue, just plops down on the wooden steps and brushes some bits of leaves off his pants legs. "How come the week after a hurricane the world seems to right itself?"

"Maybe God is tired."

He doesn't tell me I'm being silly, just nods and looks up at the sky. "You may be right."

I push open the door to the post office and the bells that dangle from the handle chime out. "Lester, Mrs. Collette? It's me, Heddy. I've come for the mail."

From the back room I can hear voices, Mrs. Collette's to be exact. "...I know you've been snooping around here. Where are those letters, Lester? They don't belong to you. Now tell me where they are."

Lester chokes out his answer, "They don't belong to you either. I delivered them, like they should have been in the first place. Why would you keep things that don't belong to you? It isn't right."

"You don't tell me what is right and wrong. How dare you? Your own mother doesn't want you around. I took you in, out of the goodness of my heart," she screeches.

"Ow, you're hurting me," Lester cries.

I look back at the door, I need Willis. He can protect Lester. I hurry quickly to the door and hold the bells so they don't sound. "Willis! Come quick. Mrs. Collette is hurting Lester."

Willis spins around and takes all three steps with one bound. "Lester," he calls. "Lester, come out here."

Mrs. Collette steps out, a forced smile on her ugly face. "He's sorting the mail in the back. How can I help you?"

Willis casts a quick glance at me then steps closer to the counter. "I'd like to speak with Lester, if you don't mind."

Her smile fades. "Well, since you're being so pushy, he's being punished for stealing. Matter of fact, you might want to check around your house. The boy seems to have a problem."

Willis looks over her shoulder and ignores her. "Lester, come out here, please."

Timidly, Lester peeks out from behind the curtain. He looks like he's been crying. His cheek is red, and he rubs his forearm. "Hey, Willis, Heddy."

"What happened to your face?" Willis steps over and gently tugs Lester completely out from the shadows of the curtain. "You okay?"

"She said I was stealing. That isn't true. I just took the mail that I found and delivered it to the people who it belonged to. That isn't stealing."

Mrs. Collette folds her arms across her bulging belly and smiles at Lester. But it ain't a nice smile. It's full of venom and hatefulness. "Really? What about the Nazi's mail. No, you just took that. You're a liar and I won't have that. Not in my house."

"He isn't a Nazi!" Lester blurts. The minute the words leave his mouth he looks straight at me. It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room.

"He's here? On the island?"

Lester covers his mouth with both of his hands and shakes. His never looks away. I open my mouth but I can't make any words come out. Nothing will undo what Lester has just said.